


Clones are a Boy's Best Friend(s), aka (Self Love is the Best Kind of Love, unless it's with a Clone, then it's Awesome)

by mockingjaybee



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Awkward Blow Jobs, Awkward Kissing, Blow Jobs, Clones, Crack, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, I have issues, M/M, Other, POV changes kind of, POV is mostly patrick, again why did i write this, clone blowjobs, gerard way wishes he has a clone, help me i still don't know why i did this, patrick has a clone, patrick sexes his clone, pete sort of fucks a clone, so much crack!fic, this is by far the weirdest thing i ever wrote, weird clone shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:48:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4781183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockingjaybee/pseuds/mockingjaybee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one likes feeling as if they have been split in two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clones are a Boy's Best Friend(s), aka (Self Love is the Best Kind of Love, unless it's with a Clone, then it's Awesome)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [megyal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/gifts).



> i wrote this ages ago, and i still sort of go WTF when i read it, and it might be one of my favourite fics i ever wrote. this was beat-ed when i originally posted it, but now i can't access the account, so all mistakes are mine, please let me know if you notice anything!
> 
> also, when i wrote this i was stuck in a car for _nine hours_ and wrote it for my lovely friend, who is amazing and i'm lucky to call her my friend. still all for you bb!

I'm sure you have. You know that band Fall Out Boy, yeah, well, weird shit happens to them all the time. 

This is different. 

And, yes, you can blame Pete Wentz, I mean, you doesn't? Fucking crazy shit follows that kid.

Anyway, this isn't a story about him, not really, it's about, well, him and Patrick. Patrick Stump? Dude, do you have MTV? Fuck off, I have a point. \---------- While on tour, boys get lonely. Very lonely. This is where/why/how Pete's 'above the waist rule' got started, however, he did fail to mention who's waist he meant. After really good shows, or feeling rather emo, or, because he could he would find Patrick, and just make out with the kid for awhile. Which really fucked Patrick up. 

He really tried to tell Pete to just stop, please Pete, stop, for his sanity. It's almost cruel to make out with a kid who has a crush on you for fuck's sake. But, you know Pete, he never listens, ever. It didn't matter if Pete was dating someone, ( _her_ ) or if Patrick was dating someone, ( _fuck her_ ), because in the Wentz Theory of Morals (or lack there of) Pete didn't see it as cheating. It was a release, a need, something to calm him down, but nothing more.

"It doesn't mean anything Patrick." Pete would say, not really looking at Patrick, more like this spot over Patrick's head, or one of those famous trucker hats. That way, Pete could never see Patrick's heart crack. It never broke, it just cracked, tear, just a little. However, Patrick could never hide that from his face, at all. He would take this big deep breath, sigh, and just walk away form Pete.

If they weren't on the bus yet, that's where he would go. To the bus, down the hall, to his bunk. Where he would put on his headphones (he was a purest) turn up his iPod, and will himself to sleep. If he couldn't sleep, he would fire up that old Mac and tool around on Garage Band, or fuck around Myspace for a little bit. This would happen at least three times a week. If they happened to be taping/performing something live, Pete would be just a tiny bit more than a self proclaimed Make Out King. It was more like, Make Out and Maybe Grope a-Little King.

Yeah, on those nights Patrick would have to change his Post- Pete routine a little. A quick jerk-off, (if he didn't lose his hard on while walking to the bus) then change, then normal routine. Tonight was one of those nights. However, this time Pete tried to hold Patrick back, but Patrick tugged his arm free. With out turning around, Patrick said "You are tearing me in two Pete, fucking ripping me in half." and started to walk away. However, Pete spoke, "Listen, I'm not meaning to! I can't help it Patrick, come on!" Patrick was already near the exit door, he didn't feel like, doing anything. He was sick of excuses. That's all Pete does, make excuses. He refused to think that this didn't mean anything.

Sure, sometimes there were other guys, but not often enough for it to matter. Like William, Ryan, Mikey, but Pete always came back to Patrick. Patrick steps onto the bus, and does his oh so wonderful ritual. Headphones, iPod, sleep. He would later admit, that something did feel a little different. This could be because Pete went to his bunk that night, and held Patrick. This had never happened before. 

See also- Patrick still had a raging hard on when he fell asleep.

He had refused to do anything about that, though. When he woke up, Patrick assumed Pete was still there, because someone was cuddling him. "Listen, Pete, move, I have to piss really---" Words failed him. He was looking back at himself. A few years younger, more hair, and less weight, but yeah, his 18 year old self. "Oh Jesus fuck. What the hell did, I, just, oh God." 

He, him, the present Patrick climbed over himself, and went to the bathroom. What? He still had to piss. Letting all of this sink in for all of thirty seconds, was most certainly not enough time. Walking back to his bunk, hoping beyond hope, he closed his eyes, and bent down to peer inside, and then opened his eyes slowly. "Ah fuck!" Now Patrick's plan, well, slightly thought out plan of not waking up the others was shot to shit.

"Dude, Patrick, what the.. What the fuck? Why are there two of you!?" Joe was rather astute for being awake, and already high at this fucking early in the morning.

"Um, I don't know asshole, if I did know, would I be screaming -huh? No." Patrick was rather pissed off. I mean, two of him? And the one that showed up was the _younger_ , and yeah, all that _hair_ , and _waistline_.. "Fuck this."

Pete, who had finally showed up, looked pleased. Like, as if it was his birthday, and Christmas, and he been given a shiny new gold pony. "Can, can I call him Trick, and you Patrick? Please?" 

Patrick didn't respond so Pete assumed that meant yes, of course. Let's welcome Trick with a big 'ol bag of candy and stuff! Pete hopped into (Pa)Trick's bunk, and tried to close that little curtain, but before he could, Patrick heard him whisper, "oh kid, this is going to be lots of fun, I promise." 

Now that shit sent fucking cold chills up Patrick's spine, and not in that good way. More in an, 'oh shit, Pete is gonna fuck me, old me, and wait, haven't I heard that before?' way. 

The next day went by, well, it just went. It was a road day. Stops for gas and food, and no one really talked to Patrick. He did what he always does during times of stress. Listen to music. Lots of music. Nice soothing music. Then he heard something. Well, ok, he knew what he heard, but Patrick really didn't want to admit it. He heard himself moan, and it sounded like he was _really_ fucking enjoying what was going on.

Now, Patrick has two choices. One - go to his bunk and find out just what the fuck was going on back there. And then two, which was more likely, he would stay where he was sitting, and just ignore it all. Completely play some Smashing Pumpkins really loud, and say fuck it all. Besides, Patrick felt as if Billy really knew what Patrick was feeling right now. 

Then he heard another moan, a louder one this time, and Patrick knew himself very well, and fucking _knew_ when he was getting off. Pete's above the waist rule was a joke. So, being as, hey, I'm being fucked here, thoughts were blurred in Patrick's head, he took off his headphones, and took the long walk, (ok, four feet), to his bunk, and pulled the curtain back. 

Pete was going down on him. And Trick, fuck, he was really far gone. Eyes tightly closed, mouth slightly open and panting, fingers in Pete's hair. This was what Patrick had been longing for. But, never like this. Never in a _million fucking years_ like this. Not some past him, but now. "Fuck you Pete, this is not cool, like, at all. Ever. Just, fuck off and die you, douche bag." And Patrick left, well, that area anyway.

He didn't know what to do. Nothing really felt right, either not enough, or too extreme. He really wanted off the tour. Trick could take his place, He, well, they could just say Patrick took off some layers, or something. Yeah. That could work. Either way, he wanted to be far away from this fucked up mess. For their parts, Andy and Joe could pretty much tell what Patrick was thinking. The dark glances exchanged between them meant they knew something, anyway.

Ten minutes later, while deep in thought, Pete sat down beside Patrick. He chanced a look, and noticed a rather large hickey on Pete's neck. So that's the spot his chose to hit. He didn't get in a second one though, Pete had held him back. "I'm going to say this Patrick, and you really need to fucking listen to me, ok?"Patrick spat in his face, stood up, and walked away. Pete didn't follow, he did however, laugh. "Patrick, chill out, come back here, please?" 

"Fuck you!" Patrick stopped. "Just, fuck you. Fuck you for making me ever think that you could care about me. No, instead, in true fucking Pete Wentz fashion, go after him because he _is_ me, just back to being younger and better. No, you could never be with this me. It's not good enough for you like this. I'm not fucking good enough for you like this. Above the waist my ass, dickhead. I give the fuck up. This me is sick of waiting. Go and have the old me, you know he will put up with your shit, won't he Pete? For now at least. Drop me off somewhere, like, now. I'll call a cab, have it take me to the airport, because I want to go home, now." Patrick has fallen to the floor. 

He felt Pete behind him, "No, don't you dare touch me." 

"Well, seeing as I am you, that's rather hard thing for me to not do." 

"Well, it's full fucking circle now. What do you want?" 

"See what you did to Pete? I think you might have broke him, dude." 

"Oh, oh fuck no. He broke me, and he fucking knows it. He went with you, he, fuck it. You know why, you are me." 

"Yeah.. You so sure of that? Really. Well, we are dumb."

"Hey--"

"No, listen. You thought, wait, that we, that he gave up on you, us? You darling, we are so wrong."

Patrick really, did not, understand what was going on. At all. "But, he, above the waist!" 

"We know his bullshit, and it scares him. A lot. He pushes you away because he thinks you have already given up on him." Well shit. 

"Well shit." 

"Exactly." Then Trick stepped around Patrick, sat down on the floor, and kiss him. Patrick pulled back, "Wait, whoa, whoa. What the hell are you, we doing?" 

"Get in our bunk honey, we have a lesson to learn." 

Following himself to his bunk, he crawled in after Trick. "Now Patrick, what do we want?" 

"Oh Jesus, this is wrong. Really wrong, seventeen different kinds of wrong, and maybe even illegal." However, Patrick would admit to himself, he did have a very nice lips. 

"Oh please. Who loves you baby?" Trick asked, licking those lips. 

"Well. _Fuck it_ , I don't care anymore." And Patrick went for it. He was a very good kisser. Not to much tongue, and he would make this little breathy sound, and nip, if Trick pulled away. Either way, he was fucked, and way over his head. Patrick caught himself wanting to well, grope Trick, which in turn made Trick sigh out, "you know you want to," and went, well, reached over and rubbed Trick through his jeans. Both moaned. Trick because, well, yeah, but Patrick because of that sound. Rubbing harder, he started pushing Trick, trying to get him to lay down on the bunk, but, Trick refused. "Oh honey, it's your turn."

Well, Patrick started wondering, it's already wrong, so what the big deal? Why shouldn't he let himself not do this? How many people get to watch themselves, give themselves a blow job? 

Well, Gerard, but _still_.

"Yeah?" Trick purred. 

"Yeah, yeah. Ok." 

"Oh, who knows what you want more than me?" 

"OK, then honestly, you should have realized the talking - which, I do not talk like that- all the talking, freaking me out." Patrick stated, almost deadpan but, he was breathing rather harshly.

"So what? You would rather me blow you than talk to you?" Trick however, was inching closer, bring his hands up Patrick's thighs, then slowly dragging his hands over Patrick's hard on. 

Patrick moaned. "Um, yes?"

"Work for me, doll." 

"Oh my God, stop---" Trick chose that moment to unbutton and -zip Patrick's jeans, reached in, and pulled out Patrick's dick. He licked the tip softly, then pulled back and smiled. "I'm going to show you why people always say we have a cock sucking lips."

"Actually the phrase is dick su--" Patrick pretty much blacked out after that. Ok, no, he remembers being lifted up a little, so Trick could slide his jeans down. And then his boxers, and the feel of his mouth wrapping around him. His hands feeling around, one settling around the base of his dick, the other cupping his balls. After that he doesn't remember much, other than coming. _Hard_

. When he woke up, all nice and tucked in, Trick wasn't there anymore. Pete however, was, with an unreadable expression on his face. Patrick yawned, and moved a little, causing Pete to break the face, and start to flat out stare at Patrick. "He's gone. You know, Trick? Like, during the middle of the night, he just vanished." Pete seemed really upset.

"Look, whatever you needed to say last night, it can wait, ok? He is me, and I am him, douche bag. I never fucking gave up on you, ever. The more you let me know about you, the more I, I.. I just want you, ok? Scars and all. Alright, asshole?"

Pete blinked. "Um, yeah. I understood that last night, he, you told me what. I'm sorry Patrick." 

"Save the "I'm sorry Patrick"'s for now. You don't want to use them all up too quickly." 

"Well, um, Jesus. Ok. Also, I watched you two last night." 

"See, this is where you say, 'I'm sorry Patrick for invading your personal space, and for watching that.' " 

"No, _fuck_ that. A- you know me, I don't believe in personal space. B- oh my God, it was hot, like, just, fucking hot. C- you really do have dick sucking lips." Pete was grinning. 

"Well, you'll find out all about that soon enough, I think." 

"You cock tease -" Patrick leaned over and kissed Pete. Because really, what could he do? 

\---------  
No, dude, listen, I swear I didn't make this up! Call Patrick, "Trick" and see what happens. Just, trust me, stand out of arms reach. True Story.

**Author's Note:**

> again, i know, it's fucked. but, i hope you enjoyed it! please let me know if i missed anything while moving it over here, thanks!  
> also, sorry but not sorry for this, because it still is weird. can i still use this was 2006 and shit? no? i'll shut up now.


End file.
